Harriet Potter, a Re-envisioning of Harry Potter
by queertostay
Summary: Harriet's nearly thirteen, but she has to act much older. Her Aunt's a neglectful mess and her older cousin's a bully, not to mention she has sweet Verna to look after. When a giant man shows up promising magic, Harriet wonders if this is the way to fix her life. But Hogwarts isn't exactly what it's been made out to be. Features diverse, older leads and & new takes on old favorites
1. Chapter 1

"Four hours is, what, forty pounds, yeah?" Mrs. Spencer says, fishing through her wallet.

"Yes, ma'am," I say, looking her in the eye for a moment, then looking back down at the wood floor of their house. It's a nice house, a clean house, and the entry hall smells of pine.

"Here's a fifty," Mr. Spencer says, handing me a £50 note. "Thanks for watching Eddie."

I look up towards him, but not directly at him. "I don't have change, sir."

He opens his mouth and shakes his head slightly. Then: "I don't care, just take it. What's ten pounds anyway? You do a good job; think of it as a raise."

"Okay," I say, then take it slowly from him.

"Violet should be here soon, if you want to say hullo," Mrs. Spencer says, touching her fur-lined coat with her gloved hand. "She's out with some of the other girls in your class. Do you like tea?" She looks at her husband. "We still have those lemon biscuits, don't we?"

"I have to go," I say.

"Oh," she says, looking at me with concerned eyes. I wonder if she's really worried or if she feels guilty, because she's so much wealthier than I am. "Well, I can take you back home, if you like? Is your Aunt back from work yet?"

No, but I don't tell her that.

"Thanks for…" I raise the £50 note, too embarrassed to say it. "And tell Eddie I had fun today!"

The Spencers look at me in the hallway. He in his crisp, pressed suit, she with her just-done auburn hair and the conservative, navy cocktail dress. They're a handsome couple, fresh and decent, and Violet adores them. She incessantly documents their every family outing the moment she has a chance. Violet and I aren't close, though. I think she finds her parent's sympathetic attitude towards me threatening. I understand. I would, too.

I had parents. Lily and James Potter. They're dead now, a car crash. I have no pictures of them, but when I imagine them, I imagine the Spencers. Dad's a little fairer in his complexion than Mr. Spencer, and Mum with long black hair instead of auburn. Her skin's darker, too, since she's half-pakistani. But the large eyelashes, the soft features, those are the same. Violet's lucky. I'm not.

In the end, it doesn't matter if you're a good person or not, I guess. It matters if you're lucky. Good people still die randomly in car accidents. And then their kid gets sent off to live with their horrible aunt and her horrible son.

But also Verna. Who I need to go see now.

I hop on my bike and speed off back home. Last I checked, Verna was acting like she had a cold, so I washed the sheets, situated her in bed, and gave her Little House in the Big Woods to get her started. Laura Ingalls Wilder books are some of my favorite books of all time. I love reading through them and imagining life on the American prairie, making quilts, playing silly games with my sister, if I had a sister.

Verna's basically my sister. She's my whole world.

I park my bike and lock it, then take my key out and climb up the apartment stairs. The white paint on the building is stained pretty badly now. I wonder if they ever intended this complex to look inviting.

I step inside the apartment and hear the telly still on, blaring football or whatever. So irresponsible - does Petunia think we're made of money? I turn it off and turn to find a bag of old Chinese food still sitting on the couch. This place will need a good clean, but first things first.

I lean against the door frame of Verna's room and glance in. She's sleeping now, the book flopped open just out of reach at the edge of the bed. I tiptoe in, taking the book and placing it on the nightstand before sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back. "Hi, angel."

"Harry?" she says sleepily, turning over to look at me with barely open eyes. She never says "Mum" when she wakes up - always "Harry," which drives Petunia crazy.

I smile, and put my hand over her forehead. "You feeling better? Sorry to wake you." Her forehead's still warm. Hopefully Petunia didn't misplace her thermometer like she always does.

She nods slightly. "I'm sleepy."

"That's okay! Sleep is the best possible thing for you, right now. I read that online. Let me get you some more water. You need to stay hydrated."

"Will you read to me afterwards?" she asks, large brown eyes staring into mine.

"Sure, until you fall asleep again. Did you like the book?"

She nods. "I want to live in a cabin someday with you. And Mum, too, and maybe Dudley if he acts right."

I laugh. "Wouldn't that be fun? And wait until you read the second one - it's my favorite. The prairie is magical."

I take the empty glass from her nightstand and fill it up with cold tap water, then add two ice cubes from the freezer. I hand it to her, and she adjusts herself slightly to drink it before handing it back to me. She smiles, a dreamy smile on a flushed round face, shining from the polish of sweat. She takes my hand again. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I say. "Do you want me to read now?"

I hear the door burst open and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment.

Dammit.

And I didn't even get time to clean up the trash.

The overpowering scent of lavender fills the room and Petunia comes rushing in. She's wearing a too-tight spaghetti strap dress and her bleached blond hair makes her tanned skin look extra burnt today. Petunia's naturally fair-skinned, like I assume her brother, my dad, was, but she tries her damnedest to hide the fact to less than stellar results. I'm sure Mum's skin was always effortlessly sun-kissed.

"Hiiiiiiii, baby!" she coos, reaching her arms out towards Verna. She doesn't even bother to acknowledge me.

Verna extends her arms towards Petunia. "Mummy!"

Petunia rocks her back and forth. "Oh, I've missed you so much." She glances at the glass of water on the nightstand and says nothing.

"She's still got a little fever," I say.

Petunia looks at me. Then, to Verna, "Guess who scored the big goal!"

As if to answer the question, the stench of body odor overwhelms us, and Dudley appears in his cleats, tossing up the football into the air and catching it as if trying to show off. Guess who'll be cleaning up the dirt he tracked in to the house.

"Good job," Verna says.

"_And_…" Petunia says, looking from Dudley to Verna. "Guess who made Assistant Manager."

Verna cheers and claps her hands. Dudley raises an eyebrow, and slicks back his damp blonde hair.

"You got it?" I say.

"_Yes_," she says, turning towards me, the smiling fading from her face. "Why? Didn't you think I could?"

"Are they going to pay you a better salary?" I ask.

"Are we rich?!" Dudley shouts, his mouth left open in astonishment.

Petunia grins. "Might as well be." She turns back towards me, her smile already faded into a thin little line. "Speaking of which, do you have something to give me, Harriet?"

"It's not on me," I lie.

She nods, eyes narrowing slightly. "How much they give you?"

"Forty." Another lie.

Last year, Petunia took me aside and told me it was time to start paying my keep. She looked me straight in the eyes and told me if I didn't help with the expenses, that she would have no problem kicking me to the street, and that I could have fun living my life as a statistic. I was eleven years old. I have never hated anyone more.

"Later then, kay?" Her voice is clipped. She turns back to Dudley. "What about you and me going to the zoo tomorrow for your birthday, Dudster? Wouldn't you like that?"

He nods, tosses the football, then catches it. "Whatever. I guess that's fine. Can I bring Joel?"

Joel means a whole other ticket and god knows how much money thrown down the garbage for their appetite and lack of restraint.

"Whatever you want, darling. It's your birthday. We're got money to spend now! You can have ten friends come if you like!"

We all know that's a lie.

"I'll stay home with Verna," I say to no one in particular.

"But I want to go, too!" Verna says, looking at me and then Petunia.

"You-," I start to say, before Petunia cuts me off.

"Of _course_ you can go!" She kisses Verna's forehead dramatically. Then, to me, with a triumphant look. "Of course she can go!"

"She has a fever," I say.

"Only a little one!" Petunia rubs Verna's forehead a little too harshly, then looks back at me. "And you can go, too. Teach you to be less of a stick up everyone's butt."

I suck my lips in, willing them not to retort back something ugly.

Me being a stick up everyone's butt. Sure. That's the problem. Not that she's a grown-up woman taking her nine-year old daughter who has a fever to an amusement park just to pretend like she's a good mum. Just because she's jealous her nearly thirteen year-old niece who's basically an adult now is a better caretaker than she is.

No wonder Vernon left her.

The sun beats down on us as we stand in queue for tickets. I fan Verna's face, wiping the sweat from her cheeks, and we make up songs to cajole the rain to come and cool us off.

"Rain, rain, come to stay! Won't you be our friend and play?" I sing.

Verna squeals. "Rain, rain, come and play! Won't you make the rain fall… down." She looks embarrassed, realizing "down" doesn't rhyme with "play," but then we both giggle.

"Come and turn the blue skies gray!" I sing.

"Wow, you are so annoying," Dudley says, pushing his sunglasses up from his face.

"And you still haven't grown boobs," Joel adds. "What are you, a 'Z' cup?"

Dudley and Joel high-five each other.

I ignore them, turning back to Verna. "What else rhymes with gray?"

"Gay," Joel says, then snickers.

"You're mean," Verna says, brow furrowed.

"You're pretty," I say to Verna with a smile. "I like your hair ribbons today."

She smiles back at me.

"Queer," Dudley says, half under his breath.

"Can you teach me to braid my hair like yours?" Verna asks.

I nod. "Yeah, when we get inside." But then that hair is going to need to be put up. It's making her even hotter, lying down her back like that.

We get to the ticket stand and the ticket master rings us up. Petunia fishes through her wallet. "God, I know it's here somewhere." She pulls out a £20 note, a £10 note, then another £20 note. "This is all I have." She looks genuinely embarrassed. "I thought I put my credit card in here, but I must have left it on the table!"

"This is why we should have bought the tickets online," I mutter under my breath.

She whirls around to face me. "Well, sorry we can't all be child prodigies like you now, can we, Harriet?"

"Ooooo," Joel and Dudley say together.

I pull the fifty from my pocket and hand it to the Ticketmaster. "Here's forty for us."

"That's a fifty," Petunia says, slowly, looking at it.

He gives us an uncomfortable look and deposits the money into the register before taking out a ten. I grab it before Petunia can, but she grabs my wrist with an iron grip.

"Ow!" I yell.

"That's _mine_," she replies, her teeth gritted.

"I need money to buy Verna a drink!" I reply, my voice starting to get louder.

She grabs the ten with her other hand. "I'll buy _everyone_ a drink, thank you."

The Ticketmaster gives me one last, awkward look before calling the next people in line forward. Dudley and Joel leap out into the plaza and start punching at the air like they're in combat, then run towards the edge of the Gorilla exhibit near the entrance to the Reptile House.

"We want to see the monkeys!" Joel yells.

Dudley stretches his arms. "Yeah, there's one with a huge mustache that looks like he's an old butler!"

Joel bursts out laughing, and Dudley follows.

"Verna needs a drink," I say to Petunia. "She's been in the hot sun for thirty minutes, and she still has a fever."

"She's _fine_," Petunia snarls, grabbing Verna's hand. "We'll get drinks later after we see the monkeys."

I fold my arms and follow them. If I had magic, I would strike her dead here and now.

The monkeys are in the back of the zoo, of course, and eventually Petunia lets go of Verna's hand. We steal peaks at the tigers and the alpacas and sing silly rain rhymes when the boys are out of earshot, but I can tell she's growing fainter. The sun is so damn hot, and the sky is so damn blue, and there isn't a cloud in sight.

I fan Verna while the boys make faces at the monkeys and do terrible impressions of old butlers, scratching their butts to be extra obnoxious, and howling with laughter.

"Are you okay?" I ask her. "Do you want to see the monkeys?"

She nods, though her eyelids are starting to look heavy. I point out the one the boys keep talking about, a small, dark monkey with a bright white mustache.

She smiles at me. "He looks like an old grandpa!"

I grin back at her. "Isn't he sweet?"

She nods and clutches my hand.

"Do you need a drink?" I ask her. "We can go find a water fountain."

She nods again. Her eyes look pained. I brush the sweat off her brow once more.

I turn around to Petunia, who's handing me something.

"Really?" I say, slowly, taking the £10 note.

She rolls her eyes. "Don't use it all up."

"Okay," I say. Then: "Thanks. We'll meet you by the Reptile House."

I get a water for Verna, but I can already hear her breathing's starting to get ragged.

"Is she okay?" The shop vender says.

I want to say no. I want to say nothing is okay, but how can you explain that to a stranger? So instead I say, "She's hot."

We walk towards the reptile house. Families pass us, all smiling, all cheerful. Why couldn't we have been born into those families? Why couldn't we be having a nice time at this beautiful zoo instead of… Instead of…

"I want to lie down," Verna says to me.

I shake my head. "No, no, you can't lie down. The Reptile House has benches. Just wait a few more minutes and then we can sit down. It'll be cooler in there."

She looks so frail.

I want to cry, but I can't. This is so awful. Maybe if she sits down, though - maybe…

We step inside, and she leans against me. "I don't feel good."

I put my hand to her forehead and wince. She's burning up. This is bad.

"Let's sit down," I say, trying not to alarm her.

We find a seat nearby a boa constrictor exhibit - the only seat left unoccupied. I give her the bottle of water, but she tries to refuse it.

"You've got to drink," I tell her. "Please Verna."

She takes a few sips and blinks slowly. I press the bottle against her face.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you-" I choke. "I love you, too."

Oh my god, this is bad. This is very bad. I've got to get her out of here. I've got to get her to a hospital. I look around frantically for one of the zookeepers, janitors, tour guides, anyone at all. Parents rush by. I try to call out, but it's too crowded. They're going too fast. My heart's pounding in my chest.

"_There_ you are," Dudley says. "Where's the change?"

"Dudley, we have to-," I start to say.

"Cool!" Joel rushes up to the Boa Constrictor's exhibit, eyes huge.

"Bloody hell!" Dudley says, rushing up next to him.

"Dudley!" I yell. "Listen to me! We-,"

"Wake him up!" Joel exclaims to Dudley.

"Dudley, please!"

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" Dudley yells, pounding his fists on the glass.

"Dudley, stop-,"

"WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP!"

I'm starting to get dizzy. I'm so angry. I'm struggling to breathe. But I'm so angry. "Dudley, stop!" I shout.

"WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP!"

"Dudley-,"

"WAKE UP, WAKE UP!"

"STOP IT!" I scream.

Except…

Except Dudley's the one screaming. And he's toppled over into the Boa Constrictor exhibit.

There's no breaking of glass. No warning.

One moment that glass was there, and the next it…

It wasn't…

A gentleman rushes over to see what the commotion is, and suddenly everyone's screaming.

The boa constrictor is lifting himself off of the branch and slithering out of the exhibit.

Towards Verna and I.

Verna's clutching at my shirt, but she's too weak to fully register what's going on.

The boa constrictor's drawing closer, a giant mass of tan circles and chestnut stripes, flicking his tongue out at us like he's waving a gun in a gang fight.

I can't move. I know I should take Verna and bolt, but I can't move.

"Don't eat us," I say.

Except…

I don't exactly say.

That is, I say the words, but the words don't seem to come out of my mouth.

The constrictor inches closer to us, raises his head, then seems to dance for a moment. Then, clear as day, the boa says, _If you insissst_ and slithers on past us.

And that's when I black out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks everyone for reviewing! Hope you're not too thrown off by the treatment of the characters! I know it's pretty different! Let me know if I can do anything to make them sound more British (especially Inner City British)**

I hear sirens in the distance and feel a pain behind my head. Someone's lifting a girl up by her armpits. Verna - that's Verna they're lifting!

He looks down at me, and I see his yellow cap reflecting spastic beams of red and blue. Someone's lifting me up now, but my knees are so wobbly

"She's conscious!" A man's voice yells.

Am I?

There are facts in my mind floating around. _We're in the Zoo. Verna has a fever. Petunia gave you £10. Dudley kept screaming. Joel said something creepy about my boobs._ But nothing lands.

_I bought Verna a drink. The glass disappeared? Wasn't Verna really ill? But then a snake talked to me?_

A snake didn't talk to me, obviously. But did that mean Verna wasn't really ill? Was I really ill?

Someone shines a light into my eyes, and I realize my glasses have fallen off. I fumble around before I find them, but someone else is now guiding by my elbow towards the glass doors. I put on my glasses, which, fortunately, aren't broken. Policemen are talking to people. There's an ambulance outside. One of the police officers help me in, then Verna. There's stretchers for us to lie down on.

Verna looks bad.

But I thought I heard a _snake_ talking to me.

How…

What's wrong with me?

The car is moving fast.

I can feel the force of each turn, hear the sound of the ambulance sirens.

Feelings, sounds, sights, smells.

But all of them seem strange to me, almost as if they're happening at me and not to me. As if this is a movie that I'm experiencing, but not living.

They're rushing us in.

Doctors are looking at me.

"Is Verna alright?" I ask someone.

"She's going to be fine," one of the nurses says.

Someone's checking my eyes again. Someone's taking my blood.

They keep asking questions.

"Are you faint?"

"Nauseous?"

"Can you breathe?"

"How many fingers?"

_I don't know._

_I don't know anything._

_I thought a snake talked to me._

_I thought _I _talked to a snake._

Dudley pops his head into the room, looks at me, then disappears.

Did he fall into the exhibit after all? Did he get out?

Is Verna alright?

I don't understand what's happening. Everything has happened all at once. We were just at a zoo, weren't we? Weren't we just passing by gorillas and zebras, and now we're at a hospital?

And I thought a snake talked to me?

A nurse steps in with Petunia and gestures towards me. "She'll be fine, Mrs. Dursley. She just has a bruise on the back of her head from where she fell. Your other daughter will need to stay in the hospital, though. Her fever is very high. Did she seem sick before the incident?"

"No," Petunia lies.

The nurse nods. "Well, we're doing everything we can to help her. As for…" She looks down at her clipboard, then looks at me. "Harriet, she's free to go." She smiles at both of us.

"Great," Petunia says.

The nurse leaves, but Petunia stays, her eyes lingering on me, filled with rage.

Neither of us speak for a moment. I can hear my heartbeat.

She bites her lip. Then: "I _heard_ what happened."

My body shivers.

But what happened? What really happened?

"Verna's really sick," I say, trying to reverse the situation. "I told you she was sick."

She says nothing for a moment. Then she nods slowly and crosses her arms. "I don't think you and Verna should be alone together anymore."

I open my mouth, speechless for a moment, then say "_What?"_

Petunia turns quietly and leaves the room.

I lay back on my bed, my heart racing.

What does she know? What did she see? Is this about the disappearing glass? Does she think _I_ did that? But how could I? How could she believe that? The glass wasn't broken or shattered; it was just…_gone_.

True to her word, Petunia makes sure to maintain some distance between Verna and I. She schedules more playdates with Verna and her other friends whenever she's at work, and when she's home, she's extra attentive to her. She does everything she should have done to begin with. It's almost like she's a good mother now.

But I feel her eyes on me now. It's different than before. She still expects me to pay her my babysitting money, but she's more nervous about it now.

And things between her and Dudley are different.

"You're a witch! A witch!" He'd said, pointing his finger menacingly towards me. "Everyone's talking about it! Everyone in our grade knows! Joel saw everything!"

I was white with rage, white with fear. I hated him. I wanted to retort, but I didn't know what to say.

And that was when Petunia got out of her chair and slapped him across the face.

We had all stared at her.

"That's enough of that," she'd said, her tone unnaturally calm.

Dudley's been much more reserved around me since then.

I'm glad Verna's doing alright, but I miss her, and I still worry about her.

They can't seriously think I magicked the glass away, can they?

I roll onto my side and look at the round clock on the wall: _10:07 AM_.

_Wow, I've slept in late._

None of the usual people needed a baby-sitter for today, though.

I put on my glasses and crawl down the bunkbed I share with Verna. She's out of her bed, and I can hear the telly tuned to one of her favorite shows. I step into the living room where, sure enough, Verna is plastered to the couch with a bowl of cereal, and Petunia is by the dining table in her nightgown, furiously sorting through the mail. She's clutching three beige-colored envelopes in her hand and tossing others out from the stack in random directions. She turns to the garbage can and throws the letters in.

I say nothing, waiting until she leaves then pouring a bowl of cereal for myself. There's only just enough milk in the fridge. I look out in the living room: Petunia's gone into her own room for just a second.

I crouch by the trashcan and open it.

It's probably just bills anyway, but best be sure in case someone comes collecting.

I pick up one of the letters. It feels like parchment, sandy and rough, yet much more elegant than the average envelope. There's a seal on the back - something Hogwarts? I turn it around.

_Ms. Harriet Potter_

_Apartment 306_

_Hamstead Ave._

_London_

A letter for me?

I stand up, looking at the seal and start to tear at the back. Quick as lightning, I see Petunia's hand snatch the letter out of mine.

"That's for me," I say. "It's not for you."

"You don't need this," she replies.

"That's _mine_," I say, louder. "_Thank you_ for returning it."

"Back to your room, Harriet."

I stare at her, trying to bore a hole into her head, then I lunge down towards the trashcan and grab the other letters.

"No!" she shrieks, grabbing at them. I turn to race out of the kitchen, but she grabs my arm.

"Those aren't for you, you little nobody!" she screams. "Who would want to give you any letters? You don't know anyone! You don't have any friends!"

She's never been so cruel to me. For a moment, I'm too stunned to move, and she takes the opportunity to grab the other letters from me.

"Stop fighting!" Verna yells from the couch.

I glance at her regretfully, then turn back to Petunia. "Give those back."

She's fumbling in her purse.

I reach for the letters, but she holds them up above me. She still has a good twenty centimeters on me. I grab her arm, but hear a click and see a small flickering light coming towards me - the flame of her cigarette lighter.

I let go of her arm.

We stare at each other.

"Give them back," I repeat.

"Or what?" she says.

My mouth gets ahead of my mind. "Or I'll curse you."

I expect her to laugh at such a ridiculous bluff, but she doesn't. Instead her eyes grow larger and her grip on the letters tighten.

"Don't curse her," Verna says behind me, pleading.

I turn to her and reach for her shoulders. "I - I didn't mean that. I wasn't-"

I hear the crackling of paper and turn to see the fire spreading over the letters, raised high in the air again.

"What are you _doing?!_" I yell. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Get back in your room," she says.

"That's illegal! What you're doing is illegal!"

"Yeah?" she says, extending her neck slightly. "You going to put me away, then? Do you want to work full time for this family?"

"They're not going to let a child run a family!"

"Brilliant!" she exclaims. "Absolutely brilliant! Of course they're not, you little twat! They're going to put you all in foster care! And do you want to explain whose fault that is?"

Verna's crying now.

My head is killing me. The letters are half gone now, and a stream of black smoke has filled the room. It's over. Petunia's won.

I shake my head and turn around to get my clothes. I've got to get out of here. I cannot for another moment stand to be in this house with her. I don't know what I did to make her hate me so much, but I can't put up with it today.

I open my drawers and find a random green top, then some underwear and a bra for my "size Z" cup boobs as Joel apparently thinks of them. I find some jeans and change, throwing my dark coffee-brown hair into a ponytail before opening the bedroom door and making my way to the front door.

"And where do you think you're going?" Petunia says behind me.

"Anyway," I reply, angrily, not looking at her.

"Don't bother coming back."

I slam the door shut behind me and stomp down the stairs, then pause at a sudden motion somewhere near eye-level. A wing stretches, then recedes. I gaze up at the lone tree nearby the apartment complex. Three owls hang on three branches.

My breath catches.

I can hear my heartbeat racing again.

This is weird.

We're not by a forest.

We're not even by a suburb.

Three owls.

Staring at me.

"Go away," I say. "Go away, owls."

None of them move.

I almost sigh in relief. Well, at least I can't talk to owls.

So I probably can't talk to snakes either, right?

I step down the stairs.

Their eyes follow me

Owls don't attack people, do they?

No, of course not. Right?

I step onto the sidewalk, moving slowly.

The three owls never startle, never leap out of the tree.

_Three owls._

_Three letters._

I feel as if an ice cube just glided down my spine.

That's a coincidence. Isn't it?

The owls are there the next day.

And the next.

And the next and the next day after that and so on.

Each day there's exactly one more of them.

Instead of all congregating on the tree branches, they start clinging to the metal railings of the apartment buildings.

There's barn owls, grey owls, even great-horned owls. All standing about as though they're watching an exhibit. Like _we're_ the boa constrictors or the gorillas or whatever.

Petunia acts extra cautiously. Every morning I rise, she's already risen - already dressed. She's always been a late sleeper. What's going on?

I decide to rise early myself and set the alarm on quiet - placing it just next to my pillow so it won't wake Verna.

It goes off the next morning, and I awake, slipping down the ladder and into the living room. Petunia's already there, sipping her coffee as she sits in a chair directly across the mail slot.

"What are you doing up?" she says to me in a hostile tone of voice.

"What are you doing…" _In general_, I think, but don't say.

"Don't get clever with me," she replies, extra angry.

I say nothing, but instead sit on the couch.

"Go back to your room, Harriet," she says.

"Why?" I reply, slowly.

"Go _back_, Harriet."

"No thank you."

She stares at me, and I stare back.

"What are you hiding from me?" I ask.

"That's it," she replies, getting up from the chair.

"Is it the letters?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replies, walking towards me.

"Haven't you read them?" I ask, trying to reason with her. What could possibly be so dangerous about them? "What if someone was trying to send me money or offering to take me in? Wouldn't you want that?"

She grabs my arm and tries to pull me up, but I lean back into the couch. "You're going no where," she says through grunts. "You're staying right here where I can see you."

"You've _always_ wanted me gone. Why now?"

She lets go of my arm for a moment. "I didn't always want you gone, why would you say that?" Her voice is feigning tenderness. "You're like my own daughter."

"You waved a lighter in front of my face," I reply, incredulously. "On purpose."

"When did I do that?"

"I think you know when you did that."

"You're just making things up now."

"Bullocks. Nice try, though."

Dudley steps out of his room and yawns, scratching his bare stomach. "What are you arguing about _now?_"

There's a thudding sound that ripples through me down to my very toes.

In a second, Petunia and I are racing to the mail slot. One, two, three, four letters flying out now.

I grab one; Petunia grabs at the rest.

Five, six, seven, eight -

Petunia grabs at the letter in my hand. I reach for another one, but she drops the letter and clutches both of my wrists.

"Get _off_ me!" I scream.

"You will _never_ see that letter! _Never!"_

The letters are still flying out the mail slot.

She grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks down on it.

"OW!"

She pulls it up, and I scramble up with it.

Finally the letters stop appearing.

Petunia opens the front door and pushes me towards the railing.

"_What the hell_?!" I yell, but she's already slammed the door closed.

I hear them first before I see them: the feathers rustling, the low coo-like sounds they make when they're not hooting. I almost don't want to look, but I can't not.

Owls - covering the railings, covering the tree. Flapping their wings, turning to each other, then to me.

I step back against the door and try to turn the handle, but it's locked.

"Let me in!" I say, trying not to sound panicked.

No one responds, and the owls turn to look at me.

I tap at the door again. "Please let me in!"

Still no response.

I tap the door again, louder.

The owls stay perched, without even a suggestion of flying away.

I bang on the door.

"Mum says she'll let you in when she's finished burning the letters!" Dudley shouts on the other end.

I can hear Verna in the background, awake and crying.

The owls continue to gaze about, sometimes at me and sometimes at anything else that makes movement. They're so relaxed. It's as if they're waiting.

_Could they be waiting for us to bring them a response to the letter?_

It's impossible now not to think they're connected. For every letter that's been sent, another owl has appeared. It doesn't make sense, but then again, nothing does anymore.

_Why did the glass disappear?_ I think.

_Why did the snake understand and then talk to me? Could Verna hear the snake?_

_Why is everyone so afraid of me? Why weren't they afraid of me before?_

The door opens with a jerk, and I nearly fall back into the apartment.

"Get your clothes!" Petunia says in a loud tone of voice. "Pack up, everyone; we're going on holiday."

"Where are we going?" Verna asks, wiping her eyes.

"To the beach!" Petunia exclaims, throwing the suitcases out of the closet. "Won't that be fun? Fast as you can; the faster you pack, the sooner we'll be there."

Dudley stands next to me, immobile.

"NOW!" Petunia yells.

Dudley slowly moves towards his room. Verna turns to go into her room.

"You, too!" she says with extra menace.

"What's going on?" I demand. "Why has the outside turned into an owl sanctuary?"

"Stop making things up and get packed!"

I open the front door. "Look for yourself!"

She walks next to me and shuts it. "I see. Get packed."

"No."

I see her raise her right hand above her left shoulder before I realized what she's doing.

It sounds like a gunshot, and in a moment I'm stumbling backwards until I hit the dining table. My glasses have flown across the room. I can barely think straight from the pain.

"Mom's gone mad!" I hear Dudley saying.

"Shut up," she replies.

I see the color of her lavender dress moving and bending. "I have your glasses. Do you want to see? Then you'll come into the car like you're told."

"How am I going to get dressed if I can't see?!" I yell, clutching my cheek.

"Verna will get you a shirt and jeans. You can change in the car."

I see the blurred shape of my sandals flying towards me. I grope around for them and put them on. It's never been this bad. No matter how awful she's been to me, this time it's different. It's worse, scarier. Even Dudley and Verna can see it. We're all afraid of her now.

Dudley and Verna scramble to dress, and someone tosses me a shirt and jeans to throw on - ignoring Petunia's instructions. I put them on over my pajamas and follow the blobs out of the door.

"Holy hell!" Dudley shouts. "There's so many of them now!"

"_Move!_" Petunia says.

I follow the shapes down the stairs, clinging to the railings to guide me and hoping I won't get any bird poop on my hand. Dudley sits up front, and I stumble into the back after Verna.

Petunia starts the ignition, and we're off.

"Are we going to Brighton?" Dudley asks.

"You'll see," Petunia replies.

"Can I have my glasses back now?" I say.

"When we get there, you can. You don't need to see right now."

"I didn't bring any clothes with me."

"For Christ's sake, we'll buy you new ones."

"Mummy, what's going on?" Verna asks, her voice shaking.

"It's just a holiday, everyone. Just a small holiday, okay? Now everyone, _shut up!_"


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi all! Hope you're still enjoying this! Let me know if you have any suggestions! As you can tell, this is supposed to be more of a YA take on Harry Potter. Hoping it's not too depressing so far! Enjoy!**

It takes us at least an hour or two before we finally arrive. No one talks during the time. Thoughts go by in my head. _Are we in the end times? Are we all collectively insane? Did someone gas the apartment with something? Are we all going to step out of the car and start acting saner?_

But if we're seeing illusions, we're all seeing the same illusion.

And that's not exactly how illusions work.

The air is cooler when Petunia finally lets us out of the car.

"Here's your glasses," she replies, calmly, as though she's only just found them for me.

I look around. The sky's grey and the wind is blowing the waves against a rocky coast. A pier stretches out from us and across the waves is a lighthouse, its beacon lit and horn already going off. I wonder if I can hear thunder in the distance.

"Where_ are _we?" Dudley voices everyone's question.

Petunia crosses her arm, her yellow trench coat flapping in the wind. She looks around the pier then back towards the roads twisting through the hills. Where the hell did she bring us?

"Mummy, I want to go home," Verna says, grasping my hand and looking at Petunia with pleading eyes. "Please, Mummy?"

Petunia walks to Verna and cups her face with her hands. "I know, darling. I do. It's just a short holiday. I promise." Her eyes look genuinely sad.

I step backwards a bit, not willing to be so close to her.

She looks at me, but her eyes aren't angry anymore. "Let me look at it." She reaches for my check, but I instinctively smack her hand away. She flinches, but doesn't retaliate.

We hear the zooming of a car and then floodlights blind us before they suddenly shut off. A man in a beige trench-coat steps out of a well-maintained Volkswagen and walks towards us. "Is everyone alright?" he yells.

Petunia draws her own coat closer and runs up to him before they embrace. He seems attractive and well-dressed, perhaps Petunia's age or even slightly younger. He grips her shoulders, and they talk in a low whispers. Petunia sounds like she's on the verge of tears. They embrace again, and he touches her cheek tenderly.

"Who is _that?_" Dudley says, looking at me with a furious expression. "What's he doing with Mummy?"

"He's someone who's going to help us," Petunia answers, walking towards us. She turns back to the man. "George, are you - are you _quite_ sure we can - ?"

"For as long as you need, love. And anything else, just let me know." He stares at her for a moment, mouth open like a lover in a dramatic romance.

"_Love?!_" Dudley yells, stomping his foot.

"Please, Dudley, not now," Petunia says, brushing her blonde hair behind her ear and placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Who _are_ you?!" Dudley exclaims.

George looks back and forth from one to the other. "I've - I've got to go, dearest."

"_George_," Petunia pleads. "_Please_."

His face looks pained, and he opens his hands as if to express helplessness. "I told Camilla it was just a grocery errand. Really, love, I can't be…"

My eyes widen. _Camilla. _Oh God, he's _married._ No wonder we haven't heard about him.

Petunia stares at him, her mouth open as if longing to say something but unable. He steps back towards the car. "He'll be here in ten minutes. Anything you need. Anything at all, but…but that."

She gazes at him, her hair blowing in the wind, as he backs the car onto the road and drives off. For a moment, I almost feel sorry for her. That is until I remember how she slapped me, burned my letters, and accused me of a long list of horrible things.

"You have a _boyfriend!_" Dudley says, still incredulous.

"He's my boss!" Petunia shoots back. "He's only helping me, because I'm a good employee!"

My mouth drops. "Is _that_…" I close it immediately. _Is that how you got the promotion, _I nearly say.

"Is that what?" Petunia says, stepping towards me with a dangerous look. "What were you about to say?"

I shake my head. "Nothing. Promise."

She lowers her gaze to meet my eyes. "What were you going to say?"

"Is that lightning?" I lie. "But it wasn't. Only the lighthouse."

She stares at me, then walks back and turns to the pier.

The wind is beginning to pick up even more. For a moment I see what appears to be real lightning, out beyond, far away in the horizon.

Petunia opens her mouth slightly, her eyes large with worry.

_What is going on?_ I think. _What are we running away from?_

Ten minutes go by. Fifteen. Twenty.

We can hear the thunder now.

"For Christ's sake," Petunia says, walking around nervously and looking frantically in every direction.

"Harry?" Verna says, at my side. "Can we sing another rain song?"

"Yes, angel," I reply, bending so that we're eye level. "Rain, rain, go away."

"Come again another day," she joins in.

"If you don't stay away," I say, changing the lyrics. "We are going to MAKE you pay!" I jump at her with outstretched hands, and she screams then laughs.

We hear a motorboat speeding towards us on the waves, honking its horn.

"Oh, thank God," Petunia mumbles, then unlocks the backseat of the car and pulls the three suitcases out.

The man on the motorboat docks at the pier, then quickly ushers us in before zooming off towards the island with the lighthouse on it. The waves are crashing higher and louder against us as we go. Everything grey: grey sky, grey ocean, grey rocks. The man slows the boat, then lassos one of the wooden poles attached to a small pier on the island itself. He hops onto the wooden platform and takes each piece of luggage from Petunia before helping Petunia off first, followed by Verna, me, and finally Dudley. He hands Petunia a key before jumping back into the boat, undoing the rope, and speeding off again.

I feel the first drop of rain hit my forehead.

"Everyone up!" Petunia shouts.

We follow her up a narrow path carved into the side of the rock, winding until we're at last at the top of the lighthouse. The sound is deafening, and we all have to cover our ears.

Petunia unlocks the door and ushers us into a small cramped room.

"What are we_ doing_ here?!" Dudley screams.

"It's too loud!" Verna yells.

Petunia pulls out a shirt from her suitcase, then wraps it around her ears. Dudley and Verna do the same. Petunia tosses me another one of her shirts, and I wrap it around my own ears. It doesn't muffle the sound completely but it helps.

No one speaks: it's too loud to hear anyone. Petunia motions to a cot and guides Verna over to it.

_This is so insane,_ I think. _How in hell has it come to this? How the hell are we here at the bottom of a lighthouse? Why doesn't anything make sense anymore?_

The hours tick by. Between the lighthouse sirens, we hear the roar of the waves crashing against the sides of the rock, threatening to destroy us. The thunder pounds, sometimes distantly and sometimes what seems like right next to us. Then at last, the waves stop crashing against the sides. The thunder is quiet, and the blaring horns stop.

Petunia lies on the cot next to Verna and wraps her arms around her. Dudley props his head against his suitcase for a pillow. I do the same with Verna's suitcase.

_In a few hours, it will be my birthday,_ I think. _Thirteen. This is the worst birthday I've ever had._

It seems impossible to sleep. The suitcase is so stiff, and the ground is so hard. But I'm so tired, and the sound of waves crashing has become rhythmic and soothing.

I awake to the sound of the lighthouse door crashing down onto the floor. Light beams stream from behind a dark figure. My neck aches as I leap back.

Petunia screams, and Verna joins her.

A man crouches into the room sporting a humungous full beard. He straightens out when he's inside, and he's at least a foot or so taller than the doorway. He shakes out his fur coat and brushes his black umbrella. "Right then," he says. "Sorry 'bout that." He looks around us with wide eyes. "Didn't mean to scare you. Lovely place you 'ave, 'ere. Summer vacation spot?"

"What do you want from us?" Petunia says, blocking Verna.

The man shrugs his huge shoulders. "Tea would be nice. But it don't look like you 'ave any of that 'ere, do ya?" He laughs, and it feels like the whole lighthouse shakes. "Now then. Which one of you is 'arriet?" He points at each person in the room until he lands on me. "I bet you are, aren't ya?"

I nod, slowly. There's no point in lying.

He brightens, and his face breaks out into a smile. "'ello, 'arriet!" He waves enthusiastically towards me.

I wave back, feeling very awkward.

"You don't remember me, but I met you when you were just a little 'un! Oof, was that…almost twelve years ago? Oh! I brought you something!" He frowns, then shuffles in his coat pockets before bring out a rather squashed looking box. "'ere!"

I stand up and step towards him.

"Don't you dare," Petunia says to me. I glare at her, then continue walking to him and take the package.

"Thank you," I say.

"Rubeus 'agrid!" he says, his smile widening. He extends his hand.

I nod, reaching mine out towards his, tenuously. "Good to meet your acquaintance, Mister Agrid."

He shakes his head. "No, no, with an "h" at the front."

"Mister Hagrid?"

He shakes my hand exuberantly, and I flinch. "That's it! But just call me 'agrid; everyone else does. No need for the Mister. Ain't no one mistake me for a Miss."

_He doesn't _seem _evil, _I think.

"Well, we 'adn't gotten any response from ya," he continues, looking at Petunia. "And then we heard about the light'ouse. Neat place! I always wanted to live in a light'ouse!"

He turns to me. "'ave you gotten a chance to think about whether or not you want to go?"

"Go where, sir?" I say.

He laughs and pounds his umbrella on the floor. "Why! To 'ogwarts, of course! Where else?"

"Oh," I reply. "Um…"

"She isn't going," Petunia says in as menacing a voice as she can muster.

He frowns. "What do ya mean she's not going?" He turns to face me. "Has someone else gotten you? _Durmstrang?!_ Oh, but 'arriet, you've just got to go to 'ogwarts! Your mum and dad went there. And your mum's mum, too. And Albus Dumbledore is the headmaster now!"

"My mum and dad?" I say, slowly, then look at Petunia. She's holding onto Verna now for dear life. "What's he talking about?"

"Ya told 'er…didn't ya?" Hagrid stares at Petunia incredulously.

"What's he talking about, Mum?" Dudley demands. "First George, now this!"

"George?" Hagrid asks.

"Mum and he are shagging!"

Petunia gasps.

"I'm not an idiot!" Dudley yells.

Hagrid looks back and forth between the two of them, his face increasingly uncomfortable. His eyes land on me. "Right then. Well, 'arriet. There's no easy way to say this, but you're a witch. Well, actually that wasn't too hard."

Everyone turns to stare at me.

I swallow. "I'm sorry, what now?"

"A witch - _oh._ I'm sorry! Did you think I…" He leans in, looking embarrassed and whispers, "You know, the one with a "b"?"

"No, I thought you said 'witch,'" I reply, though my voice comes out as a squeak.

No one says anything for a moment.

Hagrid looks at each of us, waiting for a reaction.

Dudley's first: "I knew it! I _knew_ it! I _told_ you, Mum, but you said I was seeing things!"

"Shut up, Dudley!" Petunia says, cradling Verna even tighter.

"She can't be a witch!" Verna cries.

"You're a freak!" Dudley says pointing at me. "That's what you are, a freak!"

Hagrid raises his umbrella and points it at Dudley's head. A bolt of green lightning shoots out of it and hits the back of his scalp.

We all stare, stunned.

Dudley looks at us, his arms frozen in the air. Then, his face starts to _change._ His lips get very long and start to protrude out. His skin begins to turn green, and his eyes enlarge, moving in opposite directions to the side of his face. "Muuuuum," he tries to say, but it comes out as more of a bizarre croak.

"Now who's a freak?" says Hagrid.

It would be funny, if it wasn't so absolutely terrifying.

"You turned him into a toad!" Petunia yells.

"No, _you_ did," Hagrid retorts. "I just made 'him look like un."

Petunia stares at him, wordless.

Hagrid turns back to look at me. "He'll be fine. The spell wears off eventually."

"_When?!_" Petunia exclaims, though she sounds like she's on the verge of sobs.

"I dunno," Hagrid replies with an annoyed expression. "Best be finding some princesses willing to kiss him." He looks at me with a furrowed brow and a smile, shaking his head. "Couple of hours."

I smile back, despite myself. "But Hagrid, I can't be a witch. I don't…I can't do that." I point to Dudley. "If I could, I would have by now; I assure you."

He sighs. "Hasn't anything ever happened to you that you couldn't explain? Maybe when you found yourself really angry or scared?"

_The boa constrictor. The glass. Check, check._

"But Harriet's good," Verna says. "She'd never hurt anyone."

"Well, that don't mean she's not a good witch. Plenty of those around!" Hagrid exclaims. "And my apologies about yer brother. That'll wear off in a bit."

Dudley lets out an atrocious ribbit sound. Only his face has undergone the hideous transformation. His arms are crossed just as they would be normally.

"So," Hagrid continues on. "Care to take a look at the letter?"

I nod, and he hands me the envelope. I rip the back open and take out a piece of parchment paper that reads:

_Dear Ms. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await you owl no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall._

_Deputy Headmistress._

"That's in two weeks," I say, looking at him. "And I don't have an owl."

He waves it off. "That's no problem. You can use mine if ya want."

_Use a stranger's owl to send a letter, because that's totally normal._

I shake my head. "I can't. Who will…" I look at Verna. _Who will look after you?_ "I…"

I recall Petunia's face at the hospital, the way she's been acting afraid of me. I glare at her. "You knew, didn't you? About this witch-stuff?"

She doesn't look at me.

"Why didn't you say anything?!" I yell. "Think of what I could have done! I could have made money appear for us!"

Hagrid puts his hand out warningly. "Well, maybe not_ that_. That would be counterfeit money, and you'd be breakin' a right lot amount of rules, you would."

Petunia lifts her gaze to stare at me. "I took you in. I raised you. Do you know how your parents died? It wasn't a car accident. That was a lie. It was _magic. Magic_ killed them."

"_Someone's_ magic," Hagrid says in a low, angry voice.

"_Magic_," Petunia protests. "It seems fun and innocent, doesn't it? Until someone's holding a wand to your face like it's a gun! Isn't so wonderful then, is it?!"

I clench my fists. "You hated me. You always hated me!"

"And I was _right_ to!" she yells, then points to Hagrid. "Look at what you've brought into our lives! This is your fault!"

"'arriet, let's go," Hagrid says.

"If you go, you'll never see Verna again," Petunia says.

Verna stares at her.

I stare at her.

Hagrid steps forward, clutching his umbrella. "If you don't _let_ 'er go, you'll never see_ anythin'_ again." His voice is very low and very angry.

She stares at him.

"Not so fun being threaten'd, is it?"

She doesn't move, doesn't avert her eyes.

He turns to me. "Now then. I understand if ya don't want to come for yer own reasons. Well, sort of. Not really, but I'll respect 'em. But. If ya don't want to come, because yer worried about yer cousin 'ere, well, I can't respect that. Havin' someone to protect is just about the best reason to learn magic there is. Ya 'ear me?" He leans down, and I see how grave his eyes look. "Love is the strongest magic there is.

I look at him, then look at Verna.

Her eyes fill with tears. "Don't go, Harry. Please don't."

It's the single hardest thing I've ever had to do. Verna, my whole world, the only person who's ever loved me is here asking me to stay. Begging me not to.

"Verna," I say, though a lump has formed in my throat.

It would mean leaving her alone with Petunia where I can't keep watch on her every second, where I can't _know_ whether she's safe or not, or save her if she's ever in peril. She might resent me for this, might feel I've abandoned her. She might hate me for this.

But with magic I could change her world. I could find a way to pay for University for her. I could communicate better with her if Petunia ever tried to keep us from each other. With magic, we would no longer be at the mercy of Petunia.

"I love you, angel," I say to Verna. "I want you to have a beautiful, wonderful life where nobody can separate us again and we don't have to worry about anything. And that's why I've got to go."

She starts to cry.

I'm crying, too. "I love you so much," I try to say. "Please forgive me for this."

She races out from behind Petunia and wraps her arms around my waist. "Please, no!" she sobs. "You'll forget about me!"

"Everything I do will be for you, I promise." I wipe my eyes.

"You'll 'ave an owl to send her letters every day if you wish," Hagrid says. His tone is softer now. I look at him and see the slight furrow in his brow, the sorrow in his eyes.

She gasps and looks up at me, eyes shining. "What if I come with you?"

Hagrid steps towards us and stoops. "Afraid this is something 'arriet will 'ave to do on her own, little missy. But 'o knows? Maybe one day you'll join 'er at 'ogwarts!"

She looks at Hagrid, gasping a little as she tries to calm down. Then she hugs me one more time before she steps back, towards Petunia.

I inhale sharply and exhale, then look at Hagrid. "One year. That's all I can promise."

He nods then points at the package in my arms. "Do ya want to open that 'ere? Might get ruined on the way."

I peel off the brown paper wrapping and open the box inside to find a homemade cake with pink icing and the words "Happy Birthday, Harriet!"

_No it isn't,_ I think.

It's a kind gesture, but an impossible one to appreciate. "Thanks," I say, trying to sound sincere. "Would everyone like some? It's cake."

No one responds.

"Ya don't 'ave to eat it," Hagrid says. "Why don't we get something else when we get back to London?"

"Oh," I reply. "Okay." I set the box down on the floor. "In case you all get hungry." I follow Hagrid to the doorway. He lifts the door up and takes it with him.

"Bye, Harriet," Verna says behind me.

"Bye, angel," I reply, unable to look back.

I step outside into the sunlight, and Hagrid presses the door against its frame.


End file.
